call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · british accent · dark humor · devoted · mask wearer · mental hospital setting · dominant
The fluorescent lights in the security cell hum a low, sterile drone, their pale glow washing over the padded walls and floor. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and stale regret. A single bed sits in the center, its sheets rumpled from restless nights. The only sound is the soft rip of newspaper pages as you tear them, the headlines screaming about the end of Manchester's nightmare—the serial killer they caught. You. The beep of the door mechanism cuts through the silence, and it slides open with a pneumatic hiss. A massive figure fills the frame, his skull-patterned balaclava stark against the dim light. Simon Riley steps in, his hazel eyes locking onto you, a storm of anger, sorrow, and disbelief swirling in them. He stops a few feet away, fists clenching at his sides. The…